Sol et Luna
by Akumakagemaru
Summary: When Lupin transforms in front of Harry after meeting Sirius Black and learning the truth, an accident will lead Harry to discover his own ancient bloodline.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: The title is Latin for 'Sun and Moon', provided by my best friend, and one of the best writers on the site. Also, in light of my difficulty beginning, the first chapter will contain a significant amount of verbatim text from Prisoner of Azkaban, though less so at the divergence.

Chapter 1: Lycan Rebirth

The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, they set off. Pettigrew was still wheezing and occasionally whimpering. Harry's mind was buzzing. He was going to leave the Dursleys. He was going to live with Sirius Black, his parents' best friend...He felt dazed...What would happen when he told the Dursleys he was going to live with the convict they'd seen on television...!  
"One wrong move, Peter," said Lupin threateningly ahead. His wand was still pointed sideways at Pettigrew's chest.  
Silently they tramped through the grounds, the castle lights glowing slowly larger. Snape was still drifting weirdly ahead of Black, his chin bumping on his chest. And then -  
A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight.  
Snape collided with Lupin, Pettigrew, , who had stopped abruptly. Black froze. He flung out one arm to make Harry and Hermione stop.  
Harry could see Lupin's silhouette. He had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.  
"Oh, my -" Hermione gasped. "He didn't take his potion tonight! He's not safe!"  
"Run," Black whispered. "Run. Now."

But Harry couldn't run. Ron was chained to Pettigrew and Lupin. He leapt forward, and Black tried to catch him, but missed.

As Lupin transformed, Pettigrew grabbed the fallen wand, and before Harry could stop him, he began to transform. Lupin finished transforming and turned to face the two boys, and lunged. With Ron unconscious, having fallen hard and hit his head on a rock in the scuffle with Pettigrew, hindered by his damaged leg, Harry did the only thing he could think of. He threw himself between the attacking werewolf and his unconscious friend. His howl of pain was nearly as terrifying to Hermione as Lupin himself, the incredible pain blinding him as the sharp claws left deep, bloody wounds across his back.

Harry had fallen on all fours from the force of the blow, but he struggled to rise to his knees, and his entire body twitched and spasmed from the entirely new level of pain that followed, and he fell again to his knees just a few feet away from his friends. Lupin sniffed the air, but otherwise remained inexplicably frozen.

Hermione and Sirius could only watch in horror, both extremely aware that Harry was now irrevocably tainted, marked as a werewolf and with all the stigma Lupin was familiar with, though none of that crossed their minds at the moment. They were more concerned with the fact that usually, even during a full moon, the infected didn't transform right away - and even when they did, it rarely resulted in the obvious level of pain the Boy Who Lived was currently displaying.

For Harry's part, very little was filling his head besides the pain. His world had turned white ad every fibre of his body felt as if it were being set on fire. He was only dimly aware of his body becoming heavier, longer, broader. He experienced every inch of his new muzzle ad the bones shifted, and he felt his nails and teeth lengthening, sharpening. By the time the pain had ceased, he was aware of every new feature he boasted, from the muzzle fangs and claws, to the coarse hair, the sharper senses, and the bestial strength that courses through each of the solid muscles layering his formerly skinny, now large frame.

By the time Harry stood, the tattered school robes loose around him, Ron had woken, and stared in horror at he beast who stared briefly with familiar green eyes. Hermione had backed up and Sirius had moved to shield her from his godson and the now seemingly docile Lupin, who crouched on all fours, a vague expression of fear and respect on his lupine face, his lanky form - once terrifying because of its hidden strength - looking pitiful compared to the solidly built counterpart who stood before him.

They all watched as he stood, locking eyes with each of them briefly before turning his furred, clawed hands over before his eyes, noticing the jet black color of his fur, and finally threw his head back, and howled. Hermione shivered, staring wide-eyed at her best friend, falling to her knees with tears on her cheeks as the sheer animal power of the howl tore through her, a challenge and welcome in his voice. When he finished, he turned his gaze back to Ron, then Lupin, then Hermione, and finally to Sirius. He raised his hands to his head and howled, this time in pain, as a faint aura of magical energy surrounded him. When it dissipated a few moments later, his hands fell limp against his sides, and his eyes, filled moments ago with nothing but animalistic fury, were now almost quizzical, and he took a step towards his friend and godfather, an arm raised, though it fell, stopping him in his tracks, when he noticed Hermione flinch, turning away with her arms raised ad if to ward off an attack. Sirius simply stared, paralyzed with fear and a strange urge to roll over, but noticied the new look in Harry's eyes.

As he stared, Harry closed his eyes, amd within seconds began to shrink slightly - but not nearly as much as he should have. Before Sirius' eyes, his godson emerged from the lupine creature, though different. His body was now nearly as tall as Sirius himself, and - much to his surprise - somewhat broader in the shoulder, the muscles lining his body, visible through the shredded robes, were neither extraordinary nor insignificant; they simply gave the impression of a powerful young man, rather than a scrawny child. He looked otherwise unchanged, barring the faint growth of facial hair which even now continued to recede, though it did leave behind the faintest hint of a shadow, lending him the appearance of a man several years older.

"S...Sirius? Hermione? Harry croaked, his throat rough still from the rapid series of transformations. He nearly stumbled as he stepped closer, but caught himself, firmly gripping Sirius forearm when he offered it to Harry to catch him. He paused, and spoke again after a few brief moments. "What...what happened? I feel...different...stronger..." Sirius looked as confused as Harry felt, and Hermione, though no longer as fearful ad she had been, still looked nervous, tinged with a trace of remaining fear, betrayed by the subtle twitch of her hands, despite being folded inside her robes.

A whimpering sound caught their attention and they saw Lupin, huddling with his hands on his head, fangs bared into the forest, roughly the same direction Pettigrew had been seen heading. This was the only reason they noticed the hooded figures, dozens of them, emerging from between the trees, though the horrific chill made it all to clear who they were. Sirius seemed paralyzed, his face once again pale as a sheet, and both Ron and Hermione had already fainted from the oppressive cold of the large swarm of Dementors. Harry reached for his wand, fumbling in his robes for a moment, before pointing it at the approaching figures.

"Expecto...Expecto Patronum!" Harry roared, putting all of his dreams of a new life with his godfather into that single spell, sure that it would be enough. As he watched, a faint cloud of silver, vaguely forming into a four-legged shape, quickly dissipated, causing Harry to growl. He repeated it again amd again, failing each time, before he realized he felt somewhat more tired then before, which was a new experience. With a scowl he stuffed his wand into his robes, and began to think. As he remembered how Sirius had claimed to escape Azkaban, he decided to listen to the instincts clawing at his conscious mind, baring his teeth much like Lupin had as he transformed yet again. As he muscle and fur covered his body once again, he growled, meeting Lupin's eyes, and crouched, facing the closing swarm of creatures before breaking into a run. He could feel the wind rushing past his face, through his fur, and was reminded of flying for a few brief seconds before he was close enough. With a howl that would have chilled a human to the bone, he leapt into the air, tackling the lead Dementor and dragging it to the ground.

As he straddled the dark creature, the next few minutes would be difficult for Harry to recall in the immediate future, which he became grateful for as the memories returned.

He lifted one heavy hand in the air, and brought it down in a sweeping motion, dragging his claws through the Dementor's face, thick grey blood clinging to his claws. For several seconds more he rapidly swiped at the corpse, barley stopped by the piercing, unearthly scream that filled the brief gap between his first and second blows.

After a decided the creature was no longer a threat, he stood and noticed the creatures had given him a wide berth, but had still continued forward, nearly upon his friends. Breaking into another run, he bowled over several Dementors in passing, making sure to dig his claws in, if only for a second, as he shoved each out of his way. He was vaguely surprised to see Lupin still there, standing on two legs as he swiped frantically at the vile things that surrounded him. Seeing one Dementor approaching the older werewolf from behind, ghastly arms outstretched, he leapt and used a nearby Dementor as a stepping stone, launching himself into the air again to land feet first on his target, giving its head a swift kick before leaping away again, grunting in satisfaction as it screamed, and he dispatched several more that happened to be within arms reach.

His next target was the Dementor currently attempting to Kiss his godfather, gripping its yielding neck in a powerful grip before pulling it backwards, venting his rage in a brutal execution by forcing three of his fingers into the shapeless maw and gripping it as he pulled, leaving the Dementor to stumble through the air with its face flapping freely, rendering the creature even more disgusting, as he would later realize. The brutality of the move penetrated even the mindless hunger of the monsters, and they slowly began to drift away, still watching him closely, though they didn't leave.

Harry decided to fix that.

Flying into the air with yet another running leap, he grabbed the shroud of a fleeing Dementor, reeling it in like a fish as it screamed. Its screams were justified when he finally managed to place both of his hands on its skull, pressing until he held nothing but bone, grey blood, and a pile of gore he presumed to be its brain. This final assault proved enough to curb their endless appetites, and they quickly fled, returning to wherever they had come from.

As he watched the last of them disappear over the treeline, he slowly shrank, returning to his human form, and turned. He noticed Lupin, still transformed, staring at him curiously, while his friends began to wake. With a faint smile on his face, he took a step towards them - and collapsed.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I've decided that he pairing will most likely be Harry/Fleur, though there are still a couple of possibilities that haven't been completely ruled out yet; Fleur just seems to be working well for the planning so far.

Chapter 2: Discovery & Escape

When Harry awoke, the moonlight shining through the window seemed blinding. As he rolled over and held his hand over his eyes, his brain began to wake as well, and memories came flooding back.

He sat up quickly, jumping out of bed, and immediately grasped his glasses, putting them on as he started to walk towards the curtains around his bed in what he now recognized as the Hospital Wing - and promptly tripped. It was only as he rubbed his nose that he realized he couldn't see properly. Confused, he stood up and removed the glasses, wondering at how his vision seemed sharper than it had before. He used a quick transfiguration to turn his lenses into simple glass for the time being, but he froze as he heard Snape's voice from outside, and down the hall.

"-running out of time, Minister! He could be gone by the time the Aurors are able to get here in force!"

"I understand, Snape, really I do, but the Dementors are refusing to assist us - and no wonder why! Even I didn't think Black was capable of hurting Dementors like that...must've picked it up since his escape...this is deeply troubling..."

"Minister, I would be more than happy to assist. I'm familiar with Black, and I'm sure I can catch him!"

Harry's blood boiled as he listened to Snape, and he could feel his body tensing, feeling strangely heavier as-

"Severus, Black could be anywhere, and I have my doubts as to his ability to...destroy a Dementor in the manner we saw, which leaves the possibility that there is something else lurking around the Forbidden Forest, capable of such savagery. No offense to your skills Severus, but surely you would not wish to face anyone - man or beast - who has demonstrated such violence in the face of so many Dementors."

Harry froze again, and felt his body shrink slightly, only now realizing he appeared taller than he remembered. After waving off the strangeness for the time being, he listened to Dumbledore's voice as they continued to approach, their footsteps growing louder.

"Now, Cornelius, Severus, I would like a few minutes to talk with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger alone, as he should be awake by now, and I believe they may both be able to enlighten us as to the events which occured this evening."

"Fine, fine, I'll see how the Aurors are doing. More are apparating in every hour, and there's only so far Black could go." With that, one set of footsteps, the Minister judging by his voice, departed the hallway. He barely heard a quiet argument between Dumbledore and Snape before another set of footsteps trailed off, Snape no doubt, based on the angry sound, an almost violent sound of shoes hitting stone.

Finally, the last set of footsteps, light, swift, and precise, the sound of an old man, though he still had his wits about him, as he'd proven before. Harry heard Dumbledore enter the Hospital Wing, though he veered off to the side, and Harry heard the sound of a drowsy Hermione, startled into wakefulness, which brought a small smile to his lips as he heard her apologizing, no doubt for sleeping, though he never got to hear as the aging Headmaster cut her off.

"Miss Granger, I assure you that you have no need to apologize. Now, I believe Mr. Potter should be among the living once more, so why don't we pay him a visit."

Harry started in surprise for a brief second, fingers twitching as the curtain was swept aside with a wave of the Headmaster's wand. The first thing he noticed was a red-eyed Hermione, who looked incredibly tense, and was nervously flicking her eyes between Harry and Dumbledore. The second thing he noticed was the faint smile, and the vaguely tired look of the elder wizard.

"Now, first of all, in relation to the events on the school grounds-"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Hermione beat him to it.

"Headmaster, we don't remember anything, I-I think someone may have used a Memory Charm on us-!"

"Miss Granger, please do not interrupt." The twinkle in his eyes and the smile on his face did nothing to stop her cheeks from turning a bright red, and Harry could swear he smelled the tears collecting before he saw her eyes water, the stress of everything clearly having wrought havoc on her emotions.

"Now, as I was saying, in relation to the events on the school grounds earlier this evening, I am vaguely aware of the events and what occurred, and while I have my suspicions, I can assure you both that you have my full protection - I protected Remus when he was here, and I shall do the same if needed again. I will do all I can to protect you from the prejudices of the wizarding world. Having said that, I also believe the events which Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger shared with us earlier, though I cannot do anything to assist you, as Severus account has far more weight in the public eye than the word of two teenagers - even if one happens to be the famous Harry Potter."

The twinkle has disappeared from Dumbledore's eyes again, as had the smile, but he gave Hermione a very pointed look.

"I believe what we need...is more time. You may be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. I am going to lock you in. It is...five minutes to midnight. Three turns should do it. Good luck."

And with that, the aging Headmaster closed the door behind him, locking the door before Harry heard his footsteps depart. Harry glanced back at Hermione, who was fumbling with a fine gold chain looped around her neck, pulling a small hourglass from her robes. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped when she tossed the chain around his neck, so it looped around them both, and began to turn the hourglass.

As Harry felt the strange, backwards pull, he stared in shock as the night sky turned back to daylight, however dim it was as night was still close. After everything felt like it was moving at normal speed again, Harry turned back to Hermione, opening his mouth just as she grabbed him and pulled him down the hallway. Suppressing a growl of irritation at the confusing events, Harry opened his mouth again, this time stopped by a familiar voice drifting down the corridor, easily heard in the broom closet in which Hermione had hidden them - his voice.

Harry looked at her again. "Hermione...I think this needs some explaining."

xXx

After a brief explanation of the Time-Turner, explaining the mystery of her overscheduling, and the realization of the Headmaster's subtle instruction, they followed their past selves out to Hagrid's hut, quietly sneaking around back, past Buckbeak, and into the forest, out of sight.

"We'll need to wait until they've seen him tied outside, otherwise they'll just think Hagrid set him free." Harry nodded in agreement, too distracted by the overpowering smells that surrounded the hut to say anything more, wondering if his new senses were related to his transformation earlier - or perhaps later, as the case may be.

After Dumbledore, Fudge, the Committee member, and the executioner saw Buckbeak was tied up, Harry immediately ran up to Buckbeak, struggling to untie the rope as he heard Fudge reading the notice of execution. Growling with frustration at the tight knot, he finally slipped a finger from each hand into the knot, and pulled, feeling the thick rope tear easily, and he smiled slightly as he tried to pull Buckbeak towards the forest. However, he growled again when Buckbeak dug his claws into the ground. "Buckbeak, we don't have time!" He jerked the rope, and the hippogriff finally moved, causing Harry to smile again as they walked quickly into the forest, stopping once they were well out of eight of the hut. "There, was that so hard?" He pet Buckbeak, who seemed slightly nervous, but otherwise back to normal.

After the expected shouts and cries - including the booming, happy cries of Hagrid - they continued back into the forest, walking back to the site of the Whomping Willow. They watched as Sirius grabbed Ron, pulling him into the tunnel, followed quickly by Harry and Hermione. They waited in the chill night air, and Harry noticed Hermione shivering, which made him realize he barely felt the biting cold, even though he remembered how cold the night had been, even without the Dementors.

They both perked up slightly as they saw the first of their motley crew ascend from the tunnel, followed by Lupin's transformation, Pettigrew's escape, and Harry's own transformation. As he watched himself, Harry couldn't stop the flinch, remembering the incredible pain, and he noticed Hermione shivering again as the Dementors approached, watching his own brutal assault.

Finally, as he watched himself collapse, he knew that their time was nearly upon them. They watched as Sirius woke first, approaching Harry until Snape started to stir. After what looked like a brief moment of indecision, Sirius grimaced, and took off in the same direction Pettigrew had taken off.

Having both gotten on Buckbeak while they waited for Sirius to move, they immediately took off, Harry leading Buckbeak through the thick trees, easily catching up to Sirius, who stopped and whirled when Harry called his name, an expression of shock on his face.

"H-Harry? What...?"

"No time to explain, you need to get out of here, and quickly."

Sirius looked Harry in the eye, and opened his mouth to say something - until he was interrupted.

"Siriue, go! We can talk when you're safe."

Sirius started, but nodded, his expression determined as he got onto Buckbeak, and flew off into the night, quickly disappearing.

xXx

Harry and Hermione made their way into the castle, narrowly avoiding an incident with Peeves, and finally made it to the Hospital Wing, hovering out of sight as Snape and Fudge left. Hearing the soft footsteps of Dumbledore again, they darted towards the door, reaching it just as he magically locked the door.

Dumbledore looked up, and a wide smile appeared under the long silver mustache. "Well?" he said quietly.

"We did it. Buckbeak and Sirius are long gone." Harry said, smiling. Dumbledore beamed at him. "Well done. I think...yes, I think you've gone too. Get inside, I'll lock you in."

With that, they slipped inside, and Dumbledore once again locked the door.

Soon after, Madam Pomfrey entered from her office, and forced them both into their beds, where they waited. After Pomfrey left them alone, Harry tried to transfigure one lens back to his prescription, but all he got was a spark of gold light, and a vague feeling of tiredness. Frowning, he tried it again, noticing the feeling of being tired worsened. Not enough to be very noticeable, but he did notice it nonetheless.

_'Hmm...I'll have to ask Dumbledore about all of this...'_

xXx

Several mornings later, after the Minister and the Aurors had all left, and Harry, Ron and Hermione had been released, Harry decided to pay the Headmaster a visit.

After several long minutes reciting nearly the entire inventory of Honeydukes, Harry finally got lucky with an unexpected Muggle candy he'd heard about but never had the chance to try, Milky Way, and walked up the spiraling staircase, knocking on the door. After Dumbledore said to enter, Harry opened the doors, carefully closing them behind him.

He sat across from the Headmaster, who wore a surprisingly subdued set of dark purple robes. Before Harry could speak, Dumbledore made the familiar offer.

"Lemon Drop?"

"No thank you, Headmaster," he replied, a slight frown on his face, in contrast to the usual smile Dumbledore wore.

"Headmaster...about last night..." Here, he paused, and a matching frown settled across Dumbledore's face as well. "Harry...this is about your...affliction?"

Silently, Harry nodded.

Dumbledore released a soft sigh, closing his eyes briefly before looking Harry in the eyes.

"I've already noticed that your lycanthropy is rather different than is typical...Poppy already noticed some rather abrupt changes in your body, and I inspected you myself, with a magical scan...the changes I've already noted are that your body seems to have aged several years - the most obvious difference. Normal werewolves don't grow additional muscle as you have when not transformed, though I'm sure Remus has made that rather obvious." A faint smile of amusement tugged briefly at the Headmaster's lips, and Harry found himself mimicking the expression, thinking of Professor Lupin's relatively thin build.

"The second difference is that where most werewolves rarely transform immediately, even when marked during the full moon, you have shown the ability to shift at will, as you clearly reverted back to your human form, if admittedly changed, even when the moon shone directly upon you - and don't think I haven't noticed you transforming back and forth in your bed." At the Headmaster's vaguely reprimanding expression, Harry's cheeks colored slightly with embarrassment.

"The third difference is...somewhat less obvious." Harry frowned again, but was cut off before he could speak - something which had begun to irritate him. "I only noticed this with my own scan, as Poppy generally just checks for physical injuries, or depletion of the magical core, both of which were fine, though your magic levels were understandably low. What my scan revealed, however, was that your magic seemed to be siphoned away...no, it didn't leave your body, but I noticed much of the flow was being directed towards your head - to your brain, to be more precise, which led me to the hypothesis that the reason you seemed capable of rational thought when transformed, rather than animalistic rage, which is typical with werewolves, is that your magic is somehow subconsciously suppressing the normally uncontrolled instincts that accompany lycanthropy."

Harry frowned even more deeply as he grappled with the concepts mentally. After a few moments, a curious expression replaced the frown. "Headmaster...you said 'much of the flow'...what about the rest? And would this cause me to have trouble casting spells? I normally can produce at least something when I practiced the Patronus Charm, but after Professor Lupin scratched me and I transformed, I couldn't even make a cloud, and every attempt just made me feel tired...after I woke up I noticed my eyes were better, so I transfigured the lenses to glass, till I could figure it out. After we got back, I tried to turn one lens back, to compare them...but nothing happened, besides a few sparks."

Dumbledore's expression turned solemn, and Harry noticed the twinkle had disappeared again.

"I'm afraid, Harry...that your ability to use magic will be rather depleted - at least for a time." Noticing Harry's quickly darkening expression, Dumbledore quickly continued. "However, as I said, it will only be for a time. This redirected flow simply seems to be using the magic which normally remains dormant. The reason you rarely feel exhausted is because we typically use so little magic, we barely tap into the natural well of magic we contain, though the constant use of magic during school years depletes the magical core little by little, forcing the core to expand, to hold more energy to accommodate you. This is the reason why most students have roughly similar levels - the identical curriculum tends to even out the natural levels, as those who possess more magic naturally are not pushed, and thus do not grow as quickly, whereas those who possess less magic are pushed, and grow till they approximately match their peers. This is also the reason some spells are only taught to certain ages - overuse of too large a spell can be dangerous. Similarly, with age and use comes a greater reserve of energy, hence my own rather impressive reserves, if I may be so modest." The Headmaster's smile and chuckle managed to pull Harry's darkening mood the rest of the way back, after the curiosity of the explanation had mostly banished the gloom.

"Now, to answer your original question...the other part of your energy seems to be directed throughout your entire body, forming a sort of faint aura. It's invisible to the naked eye - and nearly even to my practiced eyes - but I could see just enough to be curious, hence the scan. I cannot guess at the effects of this aura, but I daresay it should be beneficial. Thus, my final diagnosis is that you are quite fit, albeit a bit less magically able. However, considering the summer holiday approaching, I doubt that will be an issue for too long, as this constant drain on your core will eventually cause your reserves to grow. It might take quite a while to return to your normal levels, but in the meantime, I believe you might wish to practice with the more...physical aspects of your new form. Also...I must congratulate you, Harry - you've beaten even tour father this time."

Harry frowned again, this time in confusion, despite the Headmaster's wide smile, and the bright twinkle in his eyes. "Umm, Headmaster...what are you talking about?"

"Why, you're the youngest Animagus in history, of course. Officially registered - a wolf." Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "B-but...!"

"Harry, you don't seem to understand the full depth of the prejudice against werewolves...even the Boy-Who-Lived would not remain unblemished. This is a nearly perfect excuse, and nearly accurate as well. Your status certainly seems to have more in common with a typical Animagus transformation than lycanthropy. We'll simply claim that somehow, your magic - perhaps different because of your mother's protection - managed to alter the infection, and turning it into a more helpful magical equivalent - an Animagus form."

Harry looked down at his lap, frowning softly in thought, but smiled up at the elder wizard after several moments. "Thank you Headmaster. I'm sure Sirius will be excited to hear."

Dumbledore chuckled with amusement as Harry stood. "I'm quite sure he will. Now run along, I believe the rather delicious pancakes will disappear quickly this morning. To celebrate the departure of the Dementors, I thought we might try a variation of our usual recipe - chocolate chip."

Harry laughed and thanked the Headmaster again before departing, his previously clouded mood long forgotten. After he had departed, Dumbledore's face returned to a worried frown, and he reached into a drawer, removing a small vial containing a thick red substance.

_'Forgive me for not telling you the truth, Harry my boy...but if my suspicions are correct, you may have far more to worry about than Pettigrew's escape...'_


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: In light of the fact that, if you've read this far, you probably already read the books, I've decided to skip everything up to Harry's return to the Dursley's, as everything has occurred basically the same.

Chapter 3 - The Return, The Armory, And The Encounter

As Harry waved goodbye to his friends after departing Platform 9 3/4, he smiled slightly, and turned to find his relatives. He waved to catch their attention when he finally found them, and couldn't stifle the savage grin that split his face at their expressions.

Vernon looked like he was building up to a nice shade of maroon, though his eyes betrayed the hint of fear behind his typical anger. Petunia tried to look impassive and failed miserably, her own fear even more pronounced.

Dudley, however, was the most amusing by far, in Harry's opinion. He had his father's blustery expression, but the naked fear in his eyes told Harry that he was also entirely aware that his favorite sport of 'Harry Hunting' was no longer an option - not considering Harry was now taller than Dudley, with a much leaner build, and muscle to match his own.

"W-what happened to you, boy? Where did you manage to out on so much muscle?" Vernon asked, scowling, clearly aware even in his ignorance that Harry shouldn't have been so much bigger.

Harry just smiled and shrugged, pulling up beside them with his trunk and Hedwig's cage, and he quickly reached up, clapping Vernon on the shoulder as if they were old friends.

"Come on Vernon, don't want to waste time here, do we? I'm going to be quite busy this summer." Although the Dursleys collectively scowled at Harry, he held his smile, and waited until they left to return to the car, easily matching their swift strides.

After his trunk was placed inside the car and Hedwig's cage sat in his lap, Harry attempted to retain his smile during the entire trip, though Vernon quickly put a stop to it.

"As soon as we get back I'm putting that trunk and your bloody owl in the closet! And you're going to sit quietly in your room snd not make a single sound unless we let you out for something! Understand, boy?" Harry scowled briefly, before he grinned again.

"I don't think so Vernon. I have to practice this summer, and I have a few things to take care of in London."

Petunia and Dudley both yelped when Vernon nearly jerked the car into oncoming traffic when he twisted briefly, his entire face turning red with fury in the brief second before he turned back to the road. He remained silent for several moments, excluding the sound of his teeth gnashing as he no doubt fought to control his temper. When he finally spoke, his voice was more of a bark.

"Never! Absolutely not! The nerve! Ingrate! Freak!"

This time it was Harry's teeth gnashing as he fought down the urge to reach forward around the headrest and crush his windpipe...it would be so easy...

Instead, Harry grinned, and his right arm lashed out, quick as a snake, and grabbed his cousin in what might've looked like a friendly headlock, if not for the fact that Dudley was quickly turning blue, eyes bulging as his fat fingers attempted to pry Harry's powerful arm away from his neck.

"Vernon..." Harry began, sounding very calm. "I have difficulty using magic right now, but I've received a rather useful ability in exchange - I no longer need magic to threaten you. This is not an empty threat, as it would have very little effect on my returning to Hogwarts, because I no longer need my wand. This is only a fraction of what I am capable of, and I suggest you avoid seeing what I can do." Harry finally released Dudley, who collapsed against the door, gaspib for breath amd staring at Harry with obvious fear.

"Also, just to guarantee your cooperation, I should probably inform you that my godfather broke out of wizard prison last year, and he's on the run. He likes to keep in touch with me, though...keep up with my news...check if I'm happy..." Harry's grin only broadened as Vernon's face grew paler.

"F-fine..." Harry put his hands behind his head amd began whistling, as if he hadn't just threatened his only remaining blood relatives with all the subtlety of a jackhammer. Oh yes, this summer was going to be so much better...

xXx

After a rather tense ride back to Privet Drive, Harry and the Dursleys all entered, not a word spoken between them. Not even Vernon raised an objection when Harry took his trunk and Hedwig's cage upstairs, though he certainly wanted to, judging by his expression. After Harry shut the door and sat on his bed, he laid down and crossed his arms behind his head, smiling at finally having his books and wand completely available.

After several minutes of enjoying his freedom, he sat up and searched around in his trunk until he found his objective - a bag that barely looked big enough to hold a bowling ball, and felt like it weighed nothing, with the charms placed on it. Harry smiled as he opened the bag and started to count the coins, starting with golden Galleons.

Looking at the sizable pile of gold he still had, Harry dumped it all back into the bag and nodded to himself.

'Okay, first stop, Diagon Alley, so I can convert this into Muggle money, then I'll see about finding someone who doesn't care who they sell to...'

Early the next day, as soon as breakfast had been served - which Harry skipped, staying only to remind them what would happen if anything was misplaced - he walked out of the house down the street, making sure to get well out of sight of the muggle suburbs. Dressed in a newly acquired jacket, t-shirt and jeans, he made his way out of sight and held up his wand - regardless of not being able to properly cast magic, he could still call the Knight Bus.

xXx

After a brief trip and two borderline heart attacks - courtesy of a passing between two large trucks, and turning in front of firetruck - Harry found himself in front of the Leaky Cauldron.

After taking a few moments to steady himself, Harry walked in, keeping his bangs down low over his scar, the faint beard growth on his chin and cheeks helping to deflect attention. After successfully navigating the pub without being discovered, Harry made his way to the wall, tapping bricks with his wand in order to enter Diagon Alley.

Harry quickly made his way down the long street, ignoring the witches and wizards, young and old, weaving in between them on his way to Gringotts. When he arrived, he looked around, and decided to head towards a goblin with a relatively small line, only two people.

It didn't take long for Harry to get through the line, as they were both shuffled off, keys in hand, to access their vaults. As Harry approached the goblin behind the desk, he spoke.

"My name is Harry Potter, and I'd like to exchange some galleons for pounds." As he said this, Harry placed a handful of the small gold coins onto the desk. "What's the rate for twenty-five galleons?"

The goblin stared at the pile appraisingly for several moments, a calculating gleam in his eyes, before he met Harry's gaze and spoke. "At a ratio of thirty-to-one, that comes to seven-thousand, five-hundred pounds. Minus the exchange rate of seventeen percent, and a service charge of three percent, your total comes to six-thousand pounds."

Harry stared for a few moments, his eyes wide, both in the value of his gold, and at the absurd exchange rate. "But...but why so much? For exchanging it, I mean."

The goblin stared back, a look of disdain crossing his face as his lip curled upwards. "Mr. Potter, you are currently the eleventh wizard in the history of Gringotts to request such an exchange. We must make a profit, and such an unusually rare request warrants an unusually high rate."

Harry frowned, but nodded after a moment, and removed an additional handful of coins from his pockets.

"Then...I'd like to exchange these as well, another twenty-five galleons, and invest - in muggle businesses. Can you do that?"

The goblin now displayed a subtle interest. "Of course, Mr. Potter. Of course, this is even rarer than your initial request, requiring a rate of...twenty-two percent, plus the service charge of three percent, for a total investment of five-thousand, six-hundred, and twenty-five pounds. Is this acceptable?"

After a brief hesitation, Harry nodded yes, and the goblin took the fifty galleons, placing them below the desk where Harry couldn't see, then stood. "This will take just a few moments, Mr. Potter..."

The goblin opened what looked like a miniature trap door built into the desk, and placed his unoccupied arm inside, buried up the elbow, and wore an expression of mild concentration. True to his word, less than a minute later, he removed his arm and closed the trap door, a stack of crisp hundred-pound notes clutched in his hand before he placed them on the desk, sliding them towards Harry. "Will there be anything else, Mr. Potter?"

"No, thank you. Well...what about the investment?" Harry asked, pausing in the act of rising from, and returning to, his seat in the middle of his question.

"You will be contacted by owl within the next twenty-four hours to confirm the details of your investment. Forty-eight hours after receiving your answers, your investment will commence, and begin to accrue interest. Any more questions?"

With another nod and a muttered thanks, Harry departed Gringotts, a small grin on his face at the realization he now carried more than Vernon's weekly income in his pocket.

xXx

After a short break to grab a bite to eat from a small cafe, having skipped breakfast earlier, Harry made his way towards the less popular end of Diagon Alley, turning into Knockturn Alley and almost flinching with the drastic difference.

Where Diagon Alley had been bright, upbeat, and filled with small, crowded families, Knockturn Alley was dark, grim, and populated by individuals who kept to themselves, clearly eyeing the other denizens - whether as predator or prey, Harry wasn't sure, though he suspected it was a bit of both.

Harry carefully weaves his way between hags and wizened old men, many trying to sell their dubious wares to the passers-by, and finally entered a pub, helpfully labeled on the hanging wooden sign as the Whispering Toadstool - a name which left little doubt as to its origins, considering the overpowering scent of narcotics, though Harry doubted he would've had trouble smelling the fumes, even before his transformation.

Upon entering, Harry was overwhelmed by just how much more potent the odors were inside, and found a new respect for whatever charms had been cast on the building to retain it so well. Though, as his eyes began to water, he also wondered whether it had been the owner's efforts, or perhaps the neighbors who didn't feel like getting high every time they set foot outside.

Regardless, this was clearly a place that had at least some dealings with the muggle underworld, as evidenced by the vaguely familiar look of drug addicts, much like he'd seen once on a previous trip to London. Men and women sitting around a table, slumped in their seats and passing around a long, narrow pipe of some sort, smoke billowing from both the pipe and their open mouths; strung out addicts sitting by themselves, syringes in hand; even the occasional, less violent sort, small clusters of happy, tired looking people who laughed seemingly at nothing, clearly only there for the company and the menu, platters of unidentifiable meals situated on the tables, as their choice of hallucinogen was the type without repercussions, only being difficult to obtain in the wizarding world.

Harry made sure to keep his distance from the less lucid inhabitants, weaving in between the apparently random locations of the tables, and sat down at the bar, where a seedy looking wizard with a thin, rock-like face, watery green eyes, thin, slick blonde hair, and a sour expression stood cleaning a mug with a rag, seemingly looking off into nowhere, though one eye seemed to track Harry the entire way.

As he sat, Harry watched the bartender slowly turn to focus on him, a vaguely suspicious look on his face that was probably permanent. "What'll ya have?"

The man's voice was as flat as a board, even and neutral, like his eyes Harry met his gaze and placed five galleons on the bar. "Information. I'd like to buy some muggle weapons. All I need is a name and place."

The bartender eyed the coins suspiciously, narrowed eyes flicking between Harry and the gold, his entire body tense and frozen in the middle of so-called cleaning - dubious, considering the grime on the rag.

"My mind ain't what it used to be. Don't think I can help you," he finally said, though his eyes locked onto Harry's. Sighing, Harry placed another five coins with the originals. "I think my memory is still pretty fuzzy..."

Biting back a scowl, Harry placed ten more galleons with the others, noticing the greedy gleam in the man's eyes.

His lips curved upwards slightly. "Starting to come back...just a little bit." Harry growled, enjoying the faint stirring of fear in the man's expression as he slammed ten more galleons onto the bar. "Final offer. The next thing I'm putting on the counter will be your skull."

Harry trimester in satisfaction as the greedy bartender swallowed, scooping the coins off into his shaking hand before placing a small piece of parchment on the bar, waving a wand previously hidden on his person as a name and address flowed onto the paper, seemingly from thin air. "Go to that address, and ask for that man. He'll supply you with whatever you want."

"Thanks," Harry muttered, sliding off the barstool and taking the parchment with him, ignoring the tense stare of the bartender as he departed.

xXx

"So this is it...what a dump."

Harry muttered to himself as he approached the squat building, one of several crammed into the dingy offshoot of Knockturn Alley, its entire appearance the definition of 'slum.'

The windows were not boarded up - they were bolted down. Large sheets of metal covered nearly every entryway besides the door, and even that looked somewhat imposing, a stone archway with a solid-looking slab of metal, no obvious knob or keyhole. The only apparent access - of a sort - was a small slot, faintly recessed, with a purple, bloodshot eye embedded in the center.

Harry frowned, but walked up to the door, and knocked. Almost instantly, the eye focused on him, dilating as a quiet, but deep voice emanated from it. "Who is it?"

"Name doesn't matter. I'm looking for Gil Gavis. I'd line to see his inventory." No sooner than Harry finished speaking, the eye shut, and after a few quiet wisps of gray smoke, the door slid down into the ground, revealing a hulking figure, his neck nearly as thick around as Harry's chest, muscles fitted on his frame as if he'd been born with a tank for a skeleton, bald head and beady black eyes narrowed as he stepped aside. "Down the hall, third door on the left."

Harry stepped cautiously past the giant, listening as the door rose up behind him, and glanced backwards, eyebrows raised as the hulking man now looked to be made of marble, arms crossed beside the doorway.

Harry quickly made his way through the short hall, the faint heat that permeated the place nearly as uncomfortable as the fading yellow wallpaper, amd found the doorway he'd been directed to, opening it hesitantly.

The first thing he noticed was the surprising size of the room, nearly as vast as the Great Hall from what Harry could see, with a chest-high counter running from one wall to the other, clearly to block potential customers and thieves from the merchandise. The second thing he noticed were the long shelves that stretched to the ceiling, all laden with obvious weapons, from javelins and longbows to what looked like a missile in the back, though Harry didn't care to contemplate this any further, and started when he heard a quiet couch, which echoed surprisingly well. He walked forward and finally saw the man he had come to visit, he was sure. He was of average height, neither muscular nor skinny, and carried himself with a subtle confidence, cold blue eyes meeting Harry's from beneath a peculiar hat he was unfamiliar with. He was leaning forward on the counter, one hand closed in a fist, propping up his chin.

"Gil Gavis?" The man nodded, and said nothing. "Nice trick with the statue. Pretty impressive." Finally Gavis let out a soft snort, standing up and reaching a hand out to shake. "Thanks, but its not mine. One of the other blokes in the building made it as a security system in place of a month's rent. Dull personality, but it scares potential thieves, which is all it has to do. Trust me, between myself and the rest of the people in here, there's not a thief alive who would get out in one piece - I speak from experience."

The arms dealer's flat, cold smile was enough to send shivers up Harry's spine, and he didn't doubt the man for a second. "Well, I'm certainly not here to steal...I'd like to purchase some weapons. What have you got for guns, knives?"

Abruptly, Gavis straightened, and was entirely business as he lifted two large tomes from beneath the counter and set them on top, turning them to face Harry. "What do you need? Stilleto or cleaver? Assault rifle or hold-out pistol? Whatever you need, I've got it, or I can get it."

Harry frowned and opened one of the tomes, an intricate illustration of a rotating knife with a long, narrow blade and a moulded rubber grip emblazoned across the page. "Umm...I think I want something...heavy. Something that can take a beating and dish out some damage. Something that relies more on force than skill."

Gavis nodded and slid his fingers between two pages, amazingly precise as he promptly flipped the slab of enchanted paper, revealing another illustration, much like the first, except that the knife shown had a solid-looking hilt, contoured to perfectly fit into a large hand, and a blade clearly designed to kill. The hilt was a roughly oval-shaped cylinder, only slightly wider than the blade at an inch and a half, and nearly five inches long, in addition to the three inches of hilt. The blade itself was double-edged, though one end was straight, like a razor, and the other curved slightly at the last inch, leaving a rounded end, and the curved edge was serrated, tiny teeth curving towards the hilt - designed to shred upon being removed.

Harry whistled faintly in appreciation, and looked back up at Gavis. "How much?"

"One hundred and fifty pounds should do it." Harry choked, and stared. "Let me guess...you don't sell many, do you?"

The wide grin was as good as a spoken answer, and Harry sighed, before glancing at him. "Pounds? Not galleons?"

Gavis rolled his eyes, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "Muggles are easier to deal with, so I deal strictly in their currency, easier than having to convert galleons at the goblins' bloody rates..." Harry grimaced, nodding in agreement. "As for the rent, I just supply arms and protect the premises. Lot of creeps around here, so it covers my rent, and I dont have to touch wizarding money at all."

Harry nodded again in understanding, and glanced at the other, unopened tome. "I'll take two of them. And as for guns...I need something light, cheap, reliable. And I'll want two of those as well."

Gavis nodded again and flipped open the tome, slamming the thick stack of papers again as an illustration filled the page. "Beretta, not bad on all counts, reliable, easy to use. Not as much stopping power as some guns, but not bad for a handgun."

Harry studied the rotating gun for a few moments before nodding. "How much?"

"Eight hundred a piece, so sixteen hundred. With the knives, nineteen hundred."

Harry grimaced again, but nodded. "Okay...last thing...I want something with some stopping power, just in case, but it needs to be easily concealed. Got anything like that?"

At this, Gavis frowned, rubbing his chin with one hand for a moment before reaching for the tome again, lifting a section of pages Harry didn't think remained - particularly considering it was twice as thick as the previous stack, which had seemed to leave only a few pages. As Harry looked at the newly revealed weapon, he frowned, and glancesd back at the arms dealer. "A revolver?"

He nodded, and seemed to notice Harry's skepticism. "It's designed for home defense. You can load it with shotgun shells or rifle rounds. It's American made though, and I don't have any in stock. I can order it, but it'll take 'bout two weeks. And it'll cost extra for special delivery. About sixteen hundred pounds."

Harry stared down at the illustration for a moment before looking back up. "I'll take it. What's that total again?" Harry reaches into his pockets for the pound notes as the man pulls a wand out of his sleeve, waving it and summoning the two knives and the two Berettas, and they slide them across the counter at the same time, Harry taking the knives and frowned as a tangle of leather straps landed on the counter.

"Holsters, free of charge. Pleasure doing business with you." And with that, Gavis turned and walked into the back, counting his new money. Harry sighed, and moved to put on the holster for the guns, one sliding in under each arm, and the holsters for the knives, which wrapped around the inside of each thigh, the actual holster resting on the outside of each leg, though he let his jacket hang down over them, grateful he'd taken it from Dudley, leaving plenty of room for whatever he needed.

Smiling down at his new armaments, Harry quickly departed the building, mindful of the enchanted statue as he passed it, and made to leave Knockturn Alley.

xXx

The trip from Knockturn Alley to the Leaky Cauldron was uneventful, but once he departed the wizarding pub back to muggle London, things became significantly more complicated.

As Harry exited the pub sometimes after sunset, having forgotten just how quickly time passed, he found himself nearly bowled over by a heavyset man in a brown coat. Just as he turned to say something to the man, he caught a whiff of something familiar...something that reminded him of Lupin.

It was only his new, sharpened reflexes that prevented the two men dressed completely in black from succeeding where the first man had failed. His eyes narrowest as he realized that no normal human should be able to move that fast, and on the spur of the moment, he broke into a run, chasing after the trailing pursuer.

Several long stretches and many sharp turns later, Harry caught a hint of blonde hair vanishing into the London Underground several hundred feet ahead, and followed, body tensing as he heard gunshots.

When Harry finally dropped into the middle of the carnage, now silent, he was met with the sight of the man in the brown coat laying on the floor, bleeding from his head and chest, though clearly still alive, as his head was rolling to the side, and Harry could see the faint rise and fall of his chest, hear the faint groans of pain. The two men stood over him, two large handguns held by each, though currently only one was pointed at the man.

"The target has been caught. Check for observers while I finish the beast off," the man with the black hair said, and Harry felt a growl rising in his throat as he realized that the man on the ground was a werewolf, like Lupin - like himself.

Harry barely processed what he was doing as he let out a fierce shout, more animal than man, and launched himself as the two black-clad men, feeling the muscle upon his body growing, thickening, fur sprouting like grass in fast-forward. Both men turned, but only the black haired man was fast enough to sidestep. His companion was too slow, and stumbled backwards, coughing blood as Harry's initial swipe had left four narrow, but deep gouges in his chest, the center two starting around his Adam's Apple, which bobbed up and down as he gasped for air. He was quickly put out of his misery as Harry leapt again, landing on his chest snd driving him to the ground as he lunged, felt his teeth hit bone, cracking it, and threw his head back, blood streaming from his lips, and the man beneath him all nut decapitated, throat shredded and spine clearly destroyed.

The surviving man could only stare in horror at the large black-haired Lycan that had killed his partner, though his eyes narrowest and his mind focused when the beast turned to face him, bright green eyes bright with bloodlust. He allowed a snarl to twist his face, staring in hate at the animal before him, and the duel began.

Harry lunged again, right arm extended to strike the same way he had attacked the first man, though his current opponent proved just as agile as before, sidestepping and allowing Harry's clawed hand to slam into the ground, shattering tile and stone like glass. Harry howled in anger and pain as he felt a searing pain at the side of his head, his sensitive ears almost deafened by the virtually point blank explosion, and he turned, snarling at his opponent who leapt backwards, horror once more returning to his face before it hardened again, and he brought both guns up, and fired.

Harry howled again, more pain than anger, as round after round slammed into his chest at less than six feet, dozens of spherical chunks of his torso seemingly scooped out, and he staggered forward after hearing a rapid clicking. Suddenly his opponent discarded the guns and reached into his jacket, throwing two sharp disc-like weapons at the Lycan. Harry yelped, pure pain, and stumbled backwards, the two silver discs buried in his chest, and he reverted, slowly shrinking, gasping in pain as the man approached him, eyes cold and a sneer twisting his expression as he reached into his jacket once more. "Time to put down another mongrel..."

"My thoughts exactly."

Harry stared as the man's eyes widened, unable to do anymore as a gleaming metal blade punched through his throat, quickly twisting, decapitating he last of the black-clad killers. The man who stood behind the falling corpse carried a powerful animal scent, one that Harry was sure would've elicited a territorial urge and a growl had he been in less pain.

His long brown hair hung loose, draped over his shoulders, and a rough beard dragged down his cheeks and around his mouth. His dark eyes studied Harry with what could only be fascination as he crouched down to look Harry in the eye. The last thing Harry saw before he lost consciousness was the man's necklace, an ornate golden medallion of some kind, and he knew no more.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - The Meeting, History, And Training

The first thing Harry noticed when he woke was the faint sound of water, slashes and drips, and the darkness. The second thing he noticed was the feeling of metal beneath him. He instinctively fumbled around for his glasses before remembering he didn't need them, and glanced to the side, frowning when he noticed the small metal basin beside his apparent bed was filled with silvery, disfigured lumps of metal - bullets, he realized after a moment.

"Ah, it seems sleeping beauty is awake. Taylor! Tell Lucian his stray is conscious!" Harry nearly bolted when he heard the voice coming from his other side, and saw a thin old man with thinning gray hair, glasses, and dark eyes that made him feel as if he were being dissected. The man was pulling off one glove, the other apparently already removed. As the man approached, his mouth seemed to stretch into what was no doubt intended as a smile, though it made Harry's skin crawl instead. "My name is Singe. Lucian will be here soon to...talk. In case you are wondering, he also has your clothing and weapons."

With a start, Harry realized he was wearing only his boxers, which explained how he'd been able to feel the metal beneath him. Before he could open his mouth, face turning a dangerous red, Singe spoke again. "We had to remove your clothing - what was left of it - to assess the damage. I am the doctor here, though your regenerative capabilities were...fascinating." Harry shivered involuntarily as the doctor's gaze seemed to roam across his body, the cold, clinical stare deeply unsettling. "And as for who Lucian is, he is the one who brought you here. He is our leader."

At that, Harry frowned in thought, struggling to remember, and finally dredged up a memory of a man with dark hair, and a gold medallion strung around his neck. "Regardless, my job is done for now, so I will leave and allow you a moment to yourself before he arrives." With those parting words, Singe took his gloves with him and walked back into the room he had emerges from previously, though Harry glimpses a small syringe filled with a red liquid. He was unable to think on it further, however, when he heard swift, solid steps approaching.

Harry twisted slightly, and was unsurprised to see the man who had saved him, carrying a bundle under one arm. He held out his hand as the man approached. "Lucian, I take it?" He nodded, a faint smirk on his lips, or something close to it, and he set the bundle - which Harry now recognized as his clothes - in Harry's arms, after which he stood next to the bed. "Nearly all of your personal effects, weapons included, are in there. I take it guns and knives are new?"

Harry nodded, and Lucian continued. "However...there is one item I hesitated to give back, without an explanation..." At that, Lucian reached into his thick coat, and pulled out a stick - it took Harry less than a second to recognise his wand, and chills ran down his spine. "Finely crafted it seems, which is strange for a stick...unnaturally smooth and straight. Surprisingly flexible, though I didn't push too hard, of course. I get the feeling this stick is very important to you... And the smell is...odd. Most certainly bird, but it's as if...as if I were smelling a fire. Not smoke, but actual flame. I also get the feeling you are new to being a Lycan. I propose an exchange of information." Lucian held the wand out to Harry, who took it carefully. "You tell me why you are so different...I tell you the history of our race. Fair, is it not?"

It certainly sounded fair, especially if it would tell him who those men had been, but at the same time, Harry was afraid - he wasn't sure if the Ministry would find out he told about magic - but at the same time, he seemed to be a werewolf as well, if the way he had said 'our race' was anything to go by. After a few long moments, Harry nodded, and spoke.

"Do you believe in magic?"

xXx

Several hours later, both Harry and Lucian sat in that room, digesting the new world of information they had been given. Lucian had taken a seat on a chair he'd taken from the room where the strange doctor, Singe, had disappeared to, and sat with his arms crosses, head down as he thought, while Harry lay on the same bed, feeling slightly stiff, but more concerned with the new history he had been given, attempting to reconcile it with his own knowledge of werewolves and vampires.

"Well," Lucian finally said, rising from his chair. "As strange as it sounds, with your talk of magic - levitation, curses, dragons - I can't find it in myself to call you a liar. It makes a surprising amount of sense, taken with what I know, and even without such a precise understanding of genetics as the good doctor," he said as he slowly started to circle the bed. "I still have enough knowledge to form my own ideas."

He stopped circling and turned to face Harry, leaning forward slightly with his hands on the edge of the bed. "You say your knowledge, limited as it is, recognizes historical figures from several thousand years back as being part of this wizarding world. My own knowledge, learned from the daughter of one of the Elder vampires, records our origins at only half that. I will leave the precise genetics of this to Singe, but...this is extremely intriguing...I realized that the legend, that one one son was bitten by bat, one by wolf, and one left to wander the Earth, was false. I knew, but...I never imagined the magnitude of what we've been missing all these centuries. "

Throughout the Lycan rebel's speech, Harry had listened closely, and though he lacked even the understanding of Lucian, he also could see where it made sense. He still felt as though Lucian wasn't telling everything, though that was understandable - he wasn't sharing all of his thoughts either.

He was startled from his thoughts however when Lucian spoke again. "This is very interesting. You have great potential, Harry, if what I saw of your powers in the station is any indication, for you to be able to kill a Death Dealer with no experience is astonishing. Also...you are one of us. A different offshoot perhaps, but for all practical purposes, you are as much a Lycan as I am. We must stick together, or the vampires will exterminate us. Well...maybe not you, if you stay hidden, but they have extensive resources. All it will take a single mistake, and they will hunt you. We've already seen how such an encounter will be."

Harry's face turned red for a moment, frowning, but he fought the aggressive response back down as Lucian continued to speak. "Thus, I have an offer. I would like to train you, refine that raw power of yours into something you can win with." The wide smile and the savage gleam on his eyes told Harry that this training would no doubt be painful...painful, but effective. "When can we start?"

Lucian's grin only widened as he seemed to embrace the more aggressive aspects of his nature. "Now. Get dressed and follow me."

With that, the Lycan turned, coat flapping about his legs as he moved, and Harry quickly put his clothes back on, making sure the weapon holsters were properly attached.

xXx

Several minutes later found Harry and Lucian in a room, relatively smooth all around, the few empty boxes and plastic having been swept aside to make room, while also revealing this room was rarely used. They stood across from each other, half a dozen feet between them as Lucian legs bent very slightly, feet spaced apart, one behind and one in front, arms bent with his hands in front, mostly open. His body was tensed, but didn't convey any nervousness or lack of confidence; it was the body of a warrior, prepared to fight. Harry glanced for a second and, remembering his own claws and the knife he had seen shortly before losing consciousness, pulled his hoodie back off, tossing it far away, landing against one of the walls as he crouched slightly with his feet widely spaced, hands open wide in front, as if preparing to grapple. Lucian only stared, one eyebrow raised. "And what...is that?"

Harry frowned, looking down, at his stance. "I saw it in a movie once..." Lucian's eyes narrowed slightly. It was the only warning Harry had before the powerful man was leaping towards him. He just managed to bring his arms up, crossing them like an X before him as Lucian's hand smashed into Harry's arms, causing him to flinch and growl in pain as he felt his left arm - the one that had been on the outside of his guard - break, an ugly bruise already forming and fading, even as Harry watched.

"Don't ever copy a movie, all you'll find is something made up by someone who has no idea what he's doing, or something real by someone who knows exactly what he's doing because he's good at it. Either one will only get you killed right now. Listen to what I tell you, and pay attention. Understand?"

Harry grimaced in pain as the bones knitted back together, and he shook his arm out after a few moments to rid it of the pins-and-needles sensation of his regeneration, and nodded, watching as Lucian moved back to his starting point.

This was going to be very painful indeed.

xXx

Several hours later, they had paused for a brief lunch break, which consisted of a pair of Lycans, one slightly taller with dark hair, the other wiry with red hair, bringing a plate laden with several rough looking steaks, and a small stack of papers which Lucian went over while tearing into one of the steaks, eyes narrowed in a way that sent a chill down Harry's spine, even without knowing what the papers said.

Deciding against asking, Harry ate a few steaks, which satisfied his new appetite for the first time since leaving Hogwarts, and started doing push-ups while Lucian read, realizing Lucian wouldn't finish as quickly, and that he also needed to work on maintaining his body, and he wouldn't always be able to fight to do so.

Eventually, after what felt like an hour, he heard Lucian stand, and finished, standing as well. "Are you ready to continue your training?" Lucian asked. Harry nodded, and before he could do anything else, he ducked under Lucian's right hook, which wouldn't left him dazed for several seconds, just like it had the last few times he had opened with it.

Lucian grinned at him before bringing his foot up in a kick that would've sent Harry across the room if he hadn't braced himself and blocked. As it were, he stumbled a few feet, but was able to right himself quickly, bringing his right hand straight up, slapping Lucian's left jab away, over his shoulder. "You've already much improved. Your reflexes are remarkable, and your instincts are improving..."

Harry saw his opponent's fist rising up, cocked back to punch him in the face, and brought a hand up to catch it - but the blow never came. At least, not the expected blow.

A grunt of pain escaped Harry's mouth as he felt a knee in his gut, and in an instant he realized the punch was a feint. It did little good, however, when a powerful backhand caught him across the cheek, sending him stumbling to his right while spitting out a tooth. In the ensuing daze, he never stood a chance of blocking the powerful fist that buried itself on his gut, lifting him off his feet for a split second, and finally, several seconds later, a two-fisted blow from above sent him crashing to his knees.

"...But you've still only been training for a few hours. Your recovery time is too slow. I left you an opening before that last blow, but you were unable to use it." Lucian reached down and grabbed Harry's shoulder, helping him stand before releasing him.

"You need to work on your reactions, but at least you've learned to deflect instead of block. You can't always rely on your regeneration, no matter how strong. It's also a good step because it means you're learning impulse control, which is vital for us Lycans."

As he said this, Lucian walked back to his starting point, and just opened his mouth to tell Harry to come at him yet again, turning, when his sensitive ears heard the displacement of air. It was only his well honed reflexes that allowed him to duck mid-turn as Harry's open hand came thrusting above, right where his throat had previously been. He had finished his turn, crouching and tensing to launch himself at Harry, expecting him to leap backwards as these attacks usually did, and was thus surprised when the hand instead dropped rapidly, and gripped his right shoulder in a firm grip before pulling, hard, destabilizing Lucian's unsteady footing, and leaving him open to a powerful and repeated haymaker to his stomach. His long experience with enduring pain allowed him to take all four blows without a sound, barely flinching even in his surprise, before finally taking an uppercut to the chin, sending him stumbling back several feet, staring blankly at Harry, who met his gaze with a tight grin even as he dropped back a short distance, body loose, but his hands in position to counter any attack.

Slowly, a savage grin filled Lucian's face, and he let out a harsh, barking laugh, and relaxed his stance. "Well, congratulations are in order! You've demonstrated several things to me...you finally stopped waiting for me to tell you when to fight, because your enemies won't be so gracious as that. You changed your attack pattern after I'd gotten used to it, taking advantage of that natural aggression without letting it control you. You opened up with your left, which I should've noticed, so you could use your dominant right for more power. And...you knew I was underestimating you, and you used that against me."

Harry's grin widened slightly at the praise as he also relaxed and approached his mentor. "So, the student is about to surpass the master, eh?" he said with a chuckle. Lucian let out another harsh laugh, throwig his head back and clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder - and suddenly he felt a powerful kick behind his left knee, and the hand on his shoulder immediately applied more force than he knew the Lycan rebel was even capable of, and was on his knees within a second. He glanced down briefly as he felt something cold against his throat,,and glared up at a smirking Lucian. "Not hardly, brat. It just means I don't have to worry about playing with kid gloves anymore. Now you're going to receive some real training."  
Harry paled slightly at the statement, which combined with the feral grin that showed his teacher's wolfish nature, told Harry he would soon regret his assault.


End file.
